


After the Storm

by dirtygsanchez



Series: Pyramid-Scheme [5]
Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-31 00:54:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10888497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtygsanchez/pseuds/dirtygsanchez
Summary: Pyramid-Scheme SeriesThis a turn-about Roleplay fiction originally written on tumblr between @bill-rick (Bill Cipher now inhabiting a Rick Sanchez body) and @evilgsanchez ('Evil' Rick Sanchez). Through roleplay we have built up a 40 year relationship for the pair and this compiled fiction takes place a few days after the fight detailed in "Burning Down the House" This shorter piece is essentially the pair taking stock and seeking to make amends.There are references in the text to dialogue shared between the two which took place between the two pieces which took place mainly through dashboard posts. The most important aspects of those in-between conversations are captured here.Please note the piece has been shorted to exclude an additional section which was not entirely relevant to the Pyramid-Scheme ship and involved other roleplayers.





	After the Storm

**After the Storm**

 

Skip’s Tavern of dimension Y-568 could be better described as less of a bar and more of a hole in the wall. No single type of patron was a regular here- all walks of life gathered at the small establishment each night. It wasn’t so much who it attracted, but more simply who knew about it that made its customer base. 

Still, among all this strange and eccentric company, the demon’s presence never ceased to turn the heads of everyone in the room.

Normally, Bill was more than welcoming to the constant glances and offers to buy drinks or strike conversation. But at this moment, he wanted nothing more than to become invisible. He wanted to crawl inside himself into some black hole of nothingness and stay there. The demon couldn’t quite make out what he felt- the cocktail of emotions that had began poisoning him since he took over this flesh suit was already hard on the triangular enigma. But now, it was just overbearing.

_The fucker breaks my heart, switches to a new body, wipes me from his mind and moves into your fucking house? Is it any fucking wonder I want to cleanse you with fire?_

_You were fucking magnificent Bill, I’d have followed you into hell.  I have no idea who you are anymore._

_I have no idea who you are anymore._

**_I have no idea who you are anymore._ **

Bill swallowed, focusing on the glass of amber whiskey in front of him and trying to silence the words screaming in his head, tearing him every which way from the inside out and sitting as an angry, blazing ball of fire in the pit of his stomach that sometimes rose and caught in his throat, rendering him unable to speak.

It was a miracle that Evil Rick had even agreed to meet with him. There was a half of him that wanted so badly to protect his new-found family and his home, to stand his ground. But the other half of him was ashamed at the temper tantrum that had gotten out of control. Would Rick really burn down his house? Probably not. Why did Bill feel bothered to do anything other than cuss him out a bit and leave?

So Bill Cipher- the all-knowing Eye of Providence; the inter-dimensional being who had weakened entire civilizations by his lonesome and brought them to their knees; who could withstand inhuman amounts of pain and find a tingling pleasure at its very core; who was, for all basic principles, an unstoppable machine of murder, corruption and chaos- for the first time in his trillions of years of existence, found himself standing at a crossroad. 

He had two concrete choices- to spend the rest of his life living in the Oregon cabin with his boyfriend and the boys, making enemies for it but all the while finding the solace he never knew he needed. Or, walk hand in hand into the burning flames of whatever hell he could unleash with the man who had been by his side for 40 years, the man who he had nearly killed over an ill mention of his companion’s name… The man who he had targeted with his while hot rage and left in a bloody pulp on his floor to die.

If he was lucky, there would be a third choice. Some sort of compromise. But Evil Rick wasn’t a fan of middle-ground. It would take an amount of convincing that the demon may not even have in him anymore. [**The sound of an acoustic guitar**](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DYqUsAHTUPTU&t=Y2ZlYWRmNDJjYjg0MDU0Zjk5MzJjZjQ5MWI2NmU0OGEzYjIyMzZmMSxQVUxLdm1ScQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AMFqX7AqN-RE1TYVvsacgog&p=https%3A%2F%2Fbill-rick-archive.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F143731553277%2Fafter-the-storm&m=1) over the tavern’s radio finally pulled Bill out of his trance. He glanced at his watch- 4:59 PM. Rick was punctual- He’d either be here any second, or he wouldn’t come at all. Part of the demon expected the latter- he wouldn’t blame him. Bill leaned against the counter, cradling his head in his palm and staring back at the vacant expression reflected in the golden liquid before him.

_I have no idea who you are anymore._

“Yeah well…. me neither, Ricky.”

\--------------------------------

Evil Rick pulled on his lab coat with a grimace; with the help of various chemicals, compounds and a great deal of rest, he’d been able to repair most of the internal damage Bill had caused, but the bruising still ached and stretched across his entire torso,  back and front, in long purplish bands. Surgeon Rick had visited twice, but it had been Rickette’s serum that had repaired his punctured lung which, much to his great relief, had allowed him to smoke again. He had replaced the extracted tooth himself and although the molar looked completely normal, he had embedded within it a micro-bomb powerful enough to flatten an entire city, he had told no one of it and intended to keep it a secret. 

He glanced at his watch; 4.56pm, he would definitely need to leave soon, he hated being late. Studying his reflection in a nearby mirror he combed his long fingers through his hair and tried to ignore the darker circles, the bloodshot eyes and the pained expression which all seemed to have settled on his face. He felt sick; everything he knew about both himself and of course Bill, told him this meeting was not going to end well, potentially for either of them. A bitter rage still swirled at his very core, one born of frustration, loss and resentment and since his violent encounter with Bill it had grown to consume him. The only reason he had agreed to meet with the demon was to put an end to his uncertainty; they were either friends or enemies, there could be no inbetween, there was no middle ground left to share. Their relationship had spanned 40 years and not once in that time had Bill lost his [ **majesty**](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DLfGx1Eo1nSY&t=ZjI1OTIzOGRlNzUzYTVjZTQ0NDI5M2M3ODkwNGI1MTg4Y2RmNjE1NSxQVUxLdm1ScQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AMFqX7AqN-RE1TYVvsacgog&p=https%3A%2F%2Fbill-rick-archive.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F143753267062%2Fafter-the-storm&m=1), but now the shine seemed to have rubbed off. They had fought before, of course they had, but never like this, the fucker had nearly killed him and he was desperate to know if Bill felt it had gone too far or felt it hadn’t gone far enough. 

Walking over to a nearby cabinet, he punched in a security code and retrieved a black-hole generator; a small black device that he was able to slip in his pocket. It was a fail-safe, a last resort, he’d send them both straight to Hell, straight into the singularity, if it meant the kid would be safe. 

He checked his watch again; 4.59pm, time to go. Edging a cigarette out of his packet he smoothed it between his lips and curled his hand around his lighter to ignite the end. He paused for a moment to hold the soul steadying smoke deep in his lungs before stretching out his arm to aim his portal gun and rip an emerald void through the fabric of space. Taking a deep breath he stepped through from his lab straight into Skip’s Tavern; he spotted Bill immediately, he was hard to miss; he was, after all, the person everyone seemed to be staring at. Pulling up a bar stool, he took position beside the demon and waved to the bartender to order a Bourbon, not a glass, a _bottle_. Not knowing what to say, he bought time by pouring himself a large glass and shooting it back, sucking air through his teeth with a hiss as the amber liquid scolded the back of his throat leaving a satisfyingly warm hum. Placing down his glass, he refilled his own glass and Bill’s, took another long draw of his cigarette and turned towards the demon. He wanted to say something flippant, like, ‘how’s the weather’ or amusing like, ‘come here often? But instead the only words he could muster were accusatory and cold. 

_“You nearly killed me.”_

_\--------------------------_

There is a moment of uncertainty in Russian Roulette when the barrel of a gun is pressed against your forehead after you hear the  _click_  of the revolver’s cylinder lock into place. The intensity of a metal muzzle between his eyes was almost as arousing to Cipher as a blow job. That tempting thrill, to either be completely catapulted out of the body of his flesh puppet or laugh as the trigger was pulled and the edging climax was satisfied by nothingness, was what made life so worthwhile in the demon’s mind.

Russian Roulette was fun with bullets. Russian Roulette was not as fun with words. Especially with his companion’s loaded fury.

As the sentence finally rolled off Rick’s tongue, the demon’s breath hitched. _You nearly killed me_ caused his head to practically implode. His amber gaze never drew away from the bourbon. Had it been the same night he arrived at Evil Rick’s lair, he would have spouted back ‘ _Good, I should’ve finished the job!’_ in a matter of milliseconds.

But at this point, all of the wit left in Bill’s mind had escaped him. He wanted to take another sip to calm him nerves, but his hands were shaking too violently now, and his stomach lurched far too quickly. All the attempt would result in was a spill on the bar counter. He gripped the glass tightly, and the almighty stature and grandeur of the demon’s appearance was stripped down to a shameful core, a shell of a murderous and intimidating powerhouse that could now barely look the man next to him in the eye. 

Yellow gaze still averted down to the wood polish below his elbows, Bill finally found his voice.

“I know.  _And I’m sorry.”_  

\---------------------------

There was a strange moment of silence which passed between them, one that settled heavily in the awkward pause between assertion and reply. Evil Rick had been looking for ‘a tell’; any clue that would indicate how Bill was feeling and this was definitely it. Recently the demon would simply come back at him with a cruel witty quip, but on this occasion the retort never came and the silence which replaced it spoke volumes. 

When Bill finally did reply his words were solemn and addressed directly to his glass. In all honesty, this wasn’t a reaction Evil Rick had properly prepared himself for and so he sat for a moment, completely dumbfounded, unsure how to respond. He shifted uncomfortably on his stool as his bruised ribs started to complain, providing a timely reminder that there were issues here which needed to be addressed. His natural instinct was a physical one; to grab Bill and shake the shit out of him and scream wildly in his face that he should be worth more to him than any other Rick, but he gulped down the childish impulse and pressed it back, deep down he knew he had no right to demand it, despite how brightly his indignation and righteousness burned.

 _“Are…are we enemies now Bill?”_  He asked quite dispassionately, also directing his conversation to his glass, unable to meet the intense amber of his companion’s eyes.  _“I…I mean things have been bad, before, be-between us.”_  Again he was forced to shift position, having not sat upright like this for days, it was already starting to hurt.  _“but not…not…never like this.”_

\----------------------------

_Are…are we enemies now Bill?_

The bright amber orbs in the demon’s skull had glossed over as Evil Rick spoke. He finally took a sip from his glass, and glanced at the scientist shifting under his gaze.

“No…..Not unless you want to be… I don’t want to be.”

He waved down the bartender, asking the young woman about seats with back support. When she shook her head in response, the demon helped Rick out of the stool chair and over to a more private booth in the back of the bar, hoping that the change would ease the old man’s aching body if only for a little while. 

Bill sighed as he sat down, leaning against the cushioned back of the bench and staring at the ceiling. He could feel the glances his companion stole of him between the sips of bourbon. Cipher’s usual thunderous voice was barely above a choked whisper as he spoke, the words catching in his throat.

“I wasn’t trying to start shit by dating him.” He swallowed, crestfallen gaze looking down to his palms. “I wasn’t trying to double cross you, to go behind your back… When I learned that you two had history I knew it would cause some trouble but… I didn’t mean for it to.”

Bill cleared his throat, finally locking eyes with his companion. “It was never that I wanted to stop seeing you. It was  _never_  about putting someone else before you.” He paused, mouth agape before the words continued. “I saw what you had with Rocky. And I saw how happy you were…. And I realized that I’ve been missing out on a lot…. And people who tolerate me are… well they’re hard to come by. But I know you know that.”

The demon swirled the glass and threw back the remainder of its contents, frowning. “You were my best friend… You still are…you’re… But you and the kid had each other. And I know how relationships can consume you flesh puppets rather quickly. I was happy for you. Both of you… And when I thought I had found something similar, I thought I’d give it a try.”

Cipher shrugged, looking to his lap. “You’re probably right. I am a sap. And maybe it won’t last and I’m setting myself up for failure… But for now, it’s going well. And I’m  _happy_ …”

\---------------------------

The move to the booth was welcomed, this was no time for bravado, he hurt like hell and he wasn’t about to go to all the effort of trying to hide it; unlike Bill, he was only human. As they sat down and another moment of awkward silence descended, his attention flickered from Bill, to his Bourbon and back to Bill. He was waiting, he needed Bill to direct the conversation; Evil Rick had a terrible habit of taking control and things turning heated and chaotic almost instantly, subtlety had never been his strong point, compromise even less so. 

He listened respectfully to everything the demon had to say, he’d never seen Bill like this, so conflicted, so sombre, frankly, it scared the shit out of him far more than the baseball bat. 

“ _This was never about him_ ” He finally admitted gruffly, throwing back the contents of his glass and staring at the empty bottom of the tumbler.  _“This…this was always about us.”_

He placed the glass down and rubbed his hands over his tired face with a frustrated groan.  _“I..I can’t give you whatever the hell it is you need and I…I resented that someone…someone else…him…he could.”_

Topping up both of their glasses, he found he was finally able to raise his head and hold Bill’s gaze _. “Who am I kidding, I..I’m just as much of a fucked up, contradictory mess as y-you are.”_ He coughed, clearing his throat as if to spit out the bad taste the comment had left in his mouth. He felt, in all senses of the word, a complete and utter hypocrite; if there was any truth to his assertion that Bill had lost his edge, Evil Rick was certainly also starting to.

“I- _I’m a jealous, possessive old cunt Bill… when…when are you gonna realize I-I can’t fucking help it?”_ The was humor in his tone but none of it reflected in his expression, his face and the faint tremble in his hands only managed to convey a palpable sense of loss and confusion, emphasized by the crack now present in his voice.  _“You…you put him before me when you left me to die on my own floor Bill and we…we both know if it comes to it, you…you’ll do it again.”_

\-----------------------

The demon furrowed his brow in confusion as he listened. Those words hit his heart like ice picks. Couldn’t give him what he needed?

“No offense you old, insane fuck, but what do you mean that you  _can’t give me what I need?_  I don’t particularly remember bashing your head in, smart guy. Is the amnesia finally setting in?”

Bill took another swig of bourbon and laughed. “You and I aren’t that lovey-dovey or domestic, that’s for sure. I never expect you to be, and the part of me that wanted that found it. But did you really think  _anyone_  could replace  _you_? The single fucking human being I’ve found who was too smart for all of my tricks and flattery right from the get go? When I met you forty years ago, you had me all figured out within  _minutes_. It was the most amazing thing I’ve seen- I’ve been smitten ever since.”

He leaned back, crossing his arms. “You  _are_  a jealous, possessive old cunt. And so am I. I’ll admit it- I was a little jealous that Rocky was getting so much attention after forty years of being by your side. But you have one  _very_  important thing wrong.”

The demon reached across the table for his companion’s hand- the one he  _hadn’t_  crushed- and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I wouldn’t pull shit like that again.  _Ever_. I’m still going to protect what I have, but part of what I have is you. I turned on the wrong person. In all honesty, I shouldn’t have turned on anyone. I got so caught up in the fact that you threatened me I was too much of a fucking egotistical asshole to realize that you weren’t going to  _actually_  burn down my house.”

He shook his head. “I can’t throw away  _four damn decades_  of fighting and fucking with your crazy ass just like that. If you can’t forgive me, that’s fine. I don’t expect you to. But  _Jesus Christ_  don’t you  _ever_  think that you never gave me what I needed. I know  _exactly_ what I need. And for the past forty years you’ve been  _all_  I fucking need.” 

\-------------------------

Evil Rick had been in his mid-twenties when he had originally met Bill, not  _Evil_  Rick then, just Rick, a cocky kid with no sense of boundaries, a rabid thirst for carnage and a psychotic smile; admittedly not a lot had changed. To hear the demon talk about the ‘early days’ made their current situation seem all the more awful; neither of them had a lot of  _true_  friends and it pained him that he could have potentially sacrificed something so precious over something which now seemed so utterly trivial. 

 _“I know you could never replace me Bill.”_  He replied self-assuredly, placing his hand on Bill’s shoulder.  _“I…I was just infuriated that you might be trying to.”_  He blinked with disbelief as Bill took his hand, it was a tender motion and tenderness was something they rarely shared these days. The demon’s apology was sincere and within the explanation Evil Rick was clearly able to identify his own culpability; the incident had been the perfect storm of dark, ugly emotions that both of them were usually adept at containing inside and shielding from one another. Admittedly Bill was becoming better at that than he was; he felt like an open wound.

As Bill made a distinct effort to clearly communicate his perceived worth in the demon’s eyes, Evil Rick found himself blushing; fucking suave demon and his silver tongue had always been able to sweet talk him. This time however, it didn’t feel like a mere platitude to placate him,  _no_ , Bill was being genuine and although he would never have dared to ask Bill to confirm how he felt, it was good to hear it. 

Moving his hand out of Bill’s he lightly cupped the demon’s chin with it. “ _Of course I forgive you, you murderous old bastard.”_ He grinned,rubbing a calloused thumb across Bill’s cheek. _“As…as much as it pains me to admit it, I…I couldn’t be without you, not now, not…not after everything, I…you…well, you…you mean too much.”_

He was about to pull Bill into him, to taste the apology still wet on his lips, but he realized that to do so would wholly distract him from the issues between them which perhaps still needed to discuss. Clearing his throat, he straightened up in his seat, signalling the need to move on, feeling like resolution was nearly within their reach but would somehow always remain out-with his own grasp.

\--------------------

Hearing the words “  _I couldn’t be without you_  ” made a blush creep into the demon’s cheeks that matched the bright pink of his companion’s as visions of the last four decades danced in his mind- indulging in pancakes and coffee in the early hours of the morning after a bar fight, bloody back alley scuffles, alien drug experimentation that had often led to marathon amounts of sex. 

Bill’s age was indeterminately ancient, but his lifetime never ended. The demon may as well have stunted any and all growth at the human equivalency of an insatiable, driven, cocky 25-year-old. Bill was about as emotionally constipated as they came, but Rick had wrapped himself around the demon’s heart like barbed wire- any time the scientist tried to pull away felt like a violent rupture deep within Bill’s chest. 

They had hit it off from the first day they met, and despite their bickering and hell, even  _this_  monstrosity, Evil Rick was right. Both of them had been through far too much together to simply up and quit on this beautifully twisted relationship. 

\--------------------------------

**END**

**Author's Note:**

> The thread which takes place after this is entitled "The End of all Things" and is set a few months later and shows that despite making amends here, Evil Rick cannot accept Bill's family and his other lover.


End file.
